


Logan's Ghost

by nic



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1338886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nic/pseuds/nic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan gets a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Past</p>
            </blockquote>





	Logan's Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for iteenagedirtbag as part of the VM Santa LJ challenge, 2007. 
> 
> http://vm-santa.livejournal.com/143468.html

**Title:** Logan's Ghost  
 **Spoilers:** Season One, vague allusions to Season 3  
 **Rating:** PG-13  


 

Christmas night and Logan couldn't sleep. Could he ever sleep? He guessed there was a time when he did, once, but that seemed a lifetime ago. It was another life, back when he had two parents, back when he had a best friend who hadn't run off to the other side of the world, when one of the cutest girls in the world lived next door and could be found playing with her equally cute best friend and Logan would peer over the fence, watching them playing with make-up and practicing kissing their pillows or arms and think he'd died and gone to heaven.

Innocent days, those times. A far cry from the here and now.

And who was he now? Logan Echolls, no longer just a movie star’s son, no longer the disgraced child of a murderer, but someone who was a billionaire in his own right. A few choice investments allowed him to continue living the life of luxury but it rarely extended beyond surfing or trips overseas. It was boring and he was grumpy, lonely, and not even Trina bothered to call him this Christmas.

Dick and Mac were off skiing in Transylvania or something (Logan suspected Dick had got the country wrong) but it didn’t matter when it came to those two. Mac was definitely the brains of the operation and Dick, well, he loved her and went along for the ride. He was sweet to her, treated her like a princess and Logan could never tell just which of the two was in control.

Maybe neither of them had to be. It certainly wasn’t like any relationship Logan had ever had – most of the time he was in charge and the one time he wasn’t, well....

He sighed. He’d been way too young to handle something like that. Someone like her. The memory of the smiling face danced across his eyelids as he pulled the pillow over his head and tried, yet again, to fall asleep. Concentrating on the memories of turkey with the investors, egg-nog with the tv, oh, and a few rude voicemails to Duncan who never picked up his phone any more. Logan snickered to himself. He’d love to see Duncan’s face when he listed to the messages. Inspirational AND witty, Logan’s specialty. As he drifted to sleep, he realized that even Duncan hadn’t sent a card this year....

\---

Something nudged his foot. He grunted and rolled over. It kicked again, harder this time. Muttering curses under his breath, he forced his eyes open. And sat up in shock.

There, at the end of the bed, was a shrouded figure, illuminated by only the pale moonlight streaming through the window. It reached out to touch him again and he scooted back.

"Wakey wakey, Logan."

"Who...what... what the fuck?!"

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," it intoned, "and you, my dear Logan, have been a very BAD boy."

He blinked again, then cleared his throat. He wasn't scared. Not one bit. Mustering up every bit of courage and trying to sound as self-assured as possible, he said, "Dick, is that you?"

The ghost merely laughed. "The only dick around here is YOU, Logan Echolls. I'm here to show you just how much of one you have been."

He defiantly gave the ghost the finger. "This is Christmas night, ghostie. Aren't you supposed to show up on Christmas Eve?"

The ghost dipped its head for a moment, almost looking contrite. "I was busy, okay? There are a lotta losers in this town. But this time it's your turn."

Logan folded his arms behind his head. This ghost wasn't so much scary as... confused? Then again, there were no such thing as ghosts, which meant that the apparition had to have come from his own head. Just what *did* he drink, anyway? "Well, if it's my turn, then how about we make the whole experience a bit more pleasant for me. That whole ghost look isn’t really working for me. You could, I don’t know, dress it up a little? Add some tinsel, maybe a face, yeah, a face would definitely help." He snickered at his own wit. “Not to mention a dress, fog is SO 20th century.”

The ghost actually did a quick pirouette before lifting the hemline of its... robes? What did you call that ghostly stuff anyway? "You wanna see, Logan-baby?" it said, its voice growing husky. "I'll show you something you won’t forget!"

And with that, the light in the room seemed to vanish and every bit of colour, the silvers and the greys, were pulled towards the ghost along with Logan himself and he couldn't breathe and he was starting to realise that maybe he'd been seriously wrong and there WAS a good reason to freak out when....

 

\---

 

"Merry Christmas Logan!" Twin voices shout at him, one cheeky and mischievous, the other sweeter, more hesitant. He swung the door open wider to see two blonde heads looking up at him in adoration.

"My, my, my. What do we have here?" His father had crept up behind him, and as Logan turned, he could see Aaron smiling broadly. "Two absolutely adorable Christmas Elves!"

"Hello Mr. Echolls," they chorused, holding out candy canes. Logan took one and his father took the other. He looked out to the street again and could see Duncan lurking behind the girls, thankfully NOT dressed as an elf as well (because that would be a bit too weird). But there was a candy-cane stuck between his ear and Logan laughed, in that way that he knew that Duncan knew what he was laughing at.

“You three want to come inside?”

Lilly and Veronica, still holding hands, skipped ahead of Logan and he trailed after them. Okay, he was 13, but damn, they were hot. Especially Lilly. Lilly – he wanted her more than anything else. And then there was Veronica, cute, a bit princess-like for his liking sometimes, but he loved her too. There was just something about her that was – special.

Duncan saw him watching them and jabbed his elbow into Logan’s ribs. It was the same old refrain, “That’s my sister!” but sometimes Duncan checked out Logan’s mom so it was only fair.

“We brought presents!” That was Veronica, smiling widely at him and Logan smiled back. It was impossible not to. She dug into her basket, beneath the candy canes, and pulled out two small boxes. One was carefully handed to Lilly, the other she held onto herself. “It’s not much but I just wanted to-“

Lilly cut in with a giggle. “She thinks you’re really cool, Logan, so she made you cookies in the shape of pirates!” Veronica shot Lilly a look that was half embarrassment, half grateful, and Logan accepted the gift. And hey, it was Christmas, and it wasn’t like there were any other kids around to see (Duncan didn’t count), so he reached out and gave her a hug.

“And this,” Lilly continued grandly, “Is from Duncan and me.”

“And our parents,” interjected Duncan.

“But I picked it out!”

The pair looked ready to start decking it out when Logan's mother walked into the room, actually carrying a tray. “Hey kids, do you want some snacks?” (He knew the help had prepared it but he was touched by his mom’s effort. Bringing snacks to them was a rare moment.) She placed it on the table next to them. “Presents, oh, how exciting!”

He glanced up, at Lilly’s excited face as she held out the package towards him, at Duncan’s gentle grin, and Veronica’s shy smile, and knew that the four of them were going to be best friends forever. It was one of those perfect moments.

And then he noticed the ghost in the corner. And remembered why he was here. The whole scene, did it really happen that way? It was like something out of a schmaltzy Christmas special. “Enough already! I’m not sure how much sugar I can take!”

The ghost just stared back, almost sorrowfully, before snapping its fingers and -

\---

 

"Well, wasn't that adorable," Logan said with more than a hint of sarcasm as he realised that (a) he wasn't 13 anymore and (b) he was back in his bed. "Thank you, oh-ghost-of-Christmas-Past, for reminding me EXACTLY what I'm missing."

The ghost grinned at him, inasmuch as it was possible for a ghost to grin. Maybe it was the way it tilted its head. "Then my work here is done." It dusted its hands together.

Logan frowned. "Hang on a second, I thought you were supposed to take me to three different times? Show me what an evil grinch I've become, make me reform my ways, all that jazz?"

"Well, as you pointed out before, I am a day late." The ghost shrugged. "Does it really matter? Christmas is over. I've been working hard. Give a ghost a break here!"

Vaguely amused and a little surprised, Logan stared. “So how does a nice ghost like you end up in this line of work?”

It sighed. “You know, same old way anyone gets a job. Send in an application form, go to the interview, lie a bit about your experience (because honestly, when you’re alive, you really don’t get that much practice doing ghostly visitations so I had to exaggerate on that one, but I am quite good at that, wouldn’t you agree?)” (Logan nodded), “ then get hired.” Snapping its fingers, it said, “Piece of cake, really.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Hey, who are you gonna believe? What you read in books or the ACTUAL GHOST standing here in front of you?”

He held up his hands in protest. “Okay, okay, I trust you, it’s just not how I would choose to spend my afterlife! Chained to earth, telling tragic souls just where they’ve gone wrong. Doesn’t sound fun to me.”

The ghost sighed. “Well, sometimes you get a good one and boy, that makes it ALL seem worth it!” The lilt in the ghost’s voice made it clear it was kidding. “And then other nights I get REALLY lucky and the guy in question doesn’t even need his lesson!”

It moved towards the window and Logan jumped out of bed, getting into its path. "Oh no you don't. I want my lesson and I want it now."

"Logan Echolls, asking to learn something instead of using his fists? My oh my, how the world has changed!" There was a teasing lilt in the voice, one that was all too familiar. "I wish I had a camera to record the moment."

"No cameras here, ghostie, just you and me. Besides, I thought ghosts didn't show up on camera."

Tilting its head to the side, the ghost said, "You may be right, you may be wrong. Wanna test that theory?"

"What?"

"Test the theory! Come on, I'm sure you've got a camera stashed around somewhere. Let's lighten things up a bit. You have NO IDEA how boring this job gets, show up in someone's room, do the scary boogey thing, whip up three visions, then vanish only to go do it all over again?" The ghost shimmied side to side, and Logan was sure he could see a feminine shape behind the foggy outline. Yup, definitely female, he decided, as the ghost pouted its lips.

Logan was actually reaching for his phone (which took pretty good pictures) when he realised what he was doing. Ghosts weren't real. This whole situation, totally impossible. "Dude, my subconscious mind is even more whacked than I thought."

"Dude? You're calling me 'dude' now?" The ghost seemed outraged.

He smiled, cheekily. "That's what I call all my buddies." A pause. "I would call you 'babe' but only if we're talkin' naked photos."

"You want naked photos, huh?"

"Yep." He jumped back onto the bed, put his hands behind his head. "Or if you’re not comfortable with that, then maybe just a bit of leg, some cleavage.” He gave the ghost his most winning smile, the one that never failed him. “Let the show begin!"

"Logan, you do realise I'm a ghost, don't you."

"I figured that but I'm sure you were hot once." The ghost looked positively affronted and Logan figured yeah, he'd read her right.

"I'm still hot!" the ghost protested. "Sure, I might be a bit bonier than I once was, but I still have my charm." She (no longer an 'it', in Logan's mind) sashayed forward. "There was a time when every man I knew would be eating out of my hand." She spun, and laughed a little. "My looks got me everywhere, you know. All I had to do was bat my eyelashes and I could get into anyplace I wanted."

He laughed appreciatively, saying, "I bet you could." Damn, but this was weird. He was flirting with a *ghost* and he was enjoying it. Just when he thought life couldn't ever get stranger than what he'd already been through, there were always surprises.

The ghost continued. "I even caught myself a fabulous rich man, you know."

"Oh yeah? Then what happened?"

The ghost sat on the end of the bed, looked directly at him. "You weren't there."

She reached out and grabbed his hands, and they were so cold, pulling him closer and closer, and the room was spinning again....

\----

 

A graveyard. A storm. Carolers in the distance, a dusty newspaper flapping in front of him. Logan paused, the date was right there, some ten years ahead of where he should be. Or was it? He squinted, the ink was running. It was hard to read.

"Wait a second, aren't we supposed to be doing Christmas Present now?"

His ghost took his hand, it felt cold and frail. "No need to, Logan. You already figured out what you were supposed to."

He wasn’t ready to put it into words but didn’t want to be here, either. He wanted to go back to his bedroom, where it was safe. Chat to the ghost a bit longer, maybe convince her to tell him where she’d been the past few years (before she was dead). That was the kicker, wasn’t it. She was only here, with him, because she was dead.

“I’m not Lilly, Logan.”

“I know.” She tugged him forward and it was every bad cliché he’d ever heard of. The wind and the rain, the haunting sounds of “Carol of the Bells” as he came to the fresh row of graves.

“I don’t know if I need to see this, “ Logan protested. He put his arms on the ghosts, forced her to look at him. He could see her eyes, now, eyes that he knew so well. “We can go back, you and me. Back to my Christmas. This is just a bad dream, you know. You’re not really here.”

“I can’t do that, Logan,” she insisted. “I have to show you. You have to *see*.” She took another step forward, to the grave decorated with pink lilies. “Her Dad planted those, you see. There wasn’t anyone else around to do that. But it was hard for him, with the wheelchair, he can’t come here as much as he wants to.”

Still refusing to look at the name on the headstone, Logan turned his back, sat down in the grass. It was wet, his pyjamas would be soaked, and he didn’t care. “How-“ and his voice broke. “How did it happen?”

A sigh. “You know how the story goes,” she said. It was the same singsong voice the ghost had used earlier, only now, it had the sad echo of truth. “A new lead, a dangerous situation, forgetting to take backup... only there was no backup. No one who could watch out for her, only a crippled father on the other end of a phone who heard her die.” The ghost came to sit beside him, quietly, sadly. “She pushed everyone away and they let her.”

He swallowed, fighting the lump.

“She needed someone to stand up to her.”

“She hated that,” Logan protested. “She wanted someone nice.”

“She didn’t know what she wanted,” confessed the ghost, and the voice was like that of 12 year old Veronica, innocent, lost, and a little afraid. “She didn’t know what she needed.”

Logan reached out and took her cold hand in his own. So frail; he could see the bones standing out in the black night.

“You-,” and his breath caught, but he had to say it. “You were supposed to be invincible.”

She didn’t deny. She just turned to him with sad eyes. “You’re not living either, Logan. You breathe, you exist, but you’re not alive.”

He couldn’t argue with her because Veronica always saw the truth in him. And sometimes he hated her for that but the one thing he knew was that with her, there was passion, there was spark, there was life, and it was a million miles away from the graveyard where he sat talking with a dead girl.

“What happens if I kiss you?” he asked, suddenly wanting to so very much. “Do you get to be alive again? Do I wake up and find out this was all a dream? Do I get a second chance? ”

Veronica crawled into his lap and brought his hands to her (silent) heart, holding tight. She took his face into her hands and whispered, “Your choice.”

He leaned in. Their lips met.

 

\---  
END.

 


End file.
